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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492940">Fancy Seeing You Here</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccha/pseuds/Saccha'>Saccha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, David "Dave" Katz Lives, Fix-It, Fluff, M/M, Sap overdose, Sappy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:26:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492940</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saccha/pseuds/Saccha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave miraculously survives being shot in the chest, and is present when Klaus gets in a fight at that vets bar.</p><p>Written for EnKlave Fest.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>EnKlave Fest 2021, Finished faves, So Much Talent on AO3, The Best of Klaus</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fancy Seeing You Here</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for EnKlave Fest 2021! Prompt: "Dave didn’t really die, and he’s in the veterans bar when Klaus goes in S1"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dave drummed his fingers on the table idly as he contemplated his hand of cards. Two pair: not good, but not bad either. He’d call when his turn came around. They weren’t playing for money, anyway. Honestly, Dave was never much of a poker man. Playing reminded him of Vietnam, in a good way, but that’s not why he was here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave started coming to this bar because one of his old war buddies came here. Over time, Dave got to know more of the veterans who frequented the bar, and became a regular himself. Three times a week he made it a point to visit, to play cards, watch TV, and shoot the shit. It gave him something to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar irate voice rose above the general noise of the bar. Dave sighed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This again.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He turned in his seat to see what all the commotion was about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s Artie up to this time?” Dave asked with a grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s on his usual bullshit. Hassling some kid because he thinks they’re not a vet,” Bill said. He was one of the oldest patrons of the bar, and he was as sick of Artie’s shit as Dave was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head and took another swig of his beer. Not even a week could pass without Artie starting a fight. Artie had rigid views of who could and couldn’t be a soldier, and he liked to voice them loudly and frequently. Young vets were his favorite target. Dave didn’t understand what his problem was. Sure, it rubbed Dave the wrong way too when someone pretended to be a vet, but was it really worth starting a fight? By now Artie had scared off more real, young vets than he had pretenders, and each time he doubled down when confronted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Artie was facing off with what looked like two young men, one in a black shirt and one in a green army vest, over by where Dave had hung a picture of his platoon. It was one of the few remaining pictures of him and Klaus, and if Artie did something to damage it, there would be hell to pay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man in the black shirt stood off to the side with a pinched look on his face. He held his hands out in a placating manner and said something lowly that Dave couldn’t hear. Dave couldn’t get a good look at the second young man, he couldn’t see his face at all, but his form was rigid and his fists were clenched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the first man’s words, Artie untensed a little bit, but then he gestured at the man in the army vest. When the man in the army vest took an aggressive step forward and started to speak, Dave knew there was no avoiding a fight. Dave shook his head again. He wasn’t getting involved this time. Let Artie clean up his own mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...some village of their IDIOT.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave froze. His breath stuck in his chest, and he gripped his beer bottle tight. He knew that voice. He had forgotten what it sounded like years ago, but he knew it when he heard it. Fifty years later and he was still drawn to the sound like a magnet to a lodestone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Artie took a swing, and the other man (it couldn’t be Klaus; it couldn't be) ducked under his arm. Chairs screeched as others stood to join the fight, but Dave couldn’t move. Dave couldn’t look away from the figure dodging and fighting back. Not even when the man in the army vest headbutted Artie and made him stagger back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in the black shirt, the one who had tried to defuse things, grabbed </span>
  <span>Klaus</span>
  <span> the man in the army vest and dragged him out of the bar. As they passed Dave, he caught sight of a familiar tattoo peeking out of the man’s shirt, and then- and then Dave saw his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Klaus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any denial Dave had over the voice was gone. He knew the angles of Klaus’s face. He had cupped that face in his hands and ran his fingers over those cheekbones, along that jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave and Klaus’s relationship hadn’t lasted that long—less than a year. Dave had dated since then. He’d been in longer relationships since then. But none of them had ever measured up. Dave ended up, without meaning to, comparing every boyfriend (and one fiance) to Klaus, and found them wanting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus was the love of his life, and when he finally admitted that to himself, he stopped seriously dating. It wasn’t fair to the others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave took a deep and ragged breath. He coughed, and grabbed his chest; his scarred, near fatal bullet wound throbbed sharply with pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave, are you-” Bill started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Dave gasped. He stood and hurried to the door as fast as he could, wincing as his knees and hips protested the movement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he got outside, the sun momentarily blinded him. Klaus was nearly to a car parked on the side of the road in front of the bar. The other man dragged him forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Dave said desperately, “Klaus, it’s me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus stopped, turned, and for the first time in over fifty years, Dave looked into Klaus’s eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were swollen and red, but the irises were still that same striking green. Short curls framed his face. In the last few decades, Dave had wondered more than once if he was exaggerating Klaus’s beauty in his head. His mother always told him ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder,’ and it was easy to romanticize an old, lost love. But no, Klaus was as beautiful as he remembered.</span>
</p><p> <span>Klaus stared back. His gaze darted over Dave’s face, and his mouth opened and shut. He clutched a pair of dog tags hanging around his neck. Dave’s dog tags, he realized. They had traded five months into their relationship, when Dave realized he was in love. Klaus’s own tags were safely stored away in a fireproof safe in Dave’s house.</span></p><p>
  <span>“...Dave?” Klaus said in a small, fragile voice. His face scrunched up in confusion. “What did I take?” he said to himself, louder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughed, a bit too wildly. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. There was so much. The words wouldn’t come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in the black shirt frowned. “Do you know this guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus looked back at him. “You can see him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus’s head whipped back to Dave. His eyes were wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s me,” Dave said again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus took a few steps forward, and reached out to Dave. His hand hung in the air, trembling. “How? You were dead. I saw it. I held you as you died.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shook his head. “I don’t know how I survived. I woke up as they were transferring my body. They said it was a miracle, I barely pulled through.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave couldn’t remember much surrounding his near death and subsequent miraculous recovery. Apparently, they had been transporting his body when he started gasping for breath, startling the poor sap who had been transferring him. The swapped dog tags had caused a bit of confusion at the hospital, but Dave was recognizable enough that one of his squadmates was able to identify him (Dave was still unable to talk due to his chest wound) and they treated him under his proper name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave took a few more steps forward, and took Klaus’s outstretched hand in his. He brought it up to cradle his face. “I’m here. I’m alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus choked, then threw himself into Dave’s arms, and Dave staggered back a step. He held onto Klaus tightly, ignoring the twinge of pain in his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Waking up in a medical bay in Vietnam to find that Klaus was missing, and his briefcase along with him, had devastated Dave. For a while Dave had been angry at Klaus for leaving him, but then that anger drained out over time. Klaus was a time traveler from the future, and his briefcase was the time machine. He had never told Dave when he was from, so the possibility of a reunion lurked in the back of Dave’s head. For years he tried to squash that tiny flicker of hope. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus pulled back just enough to kiss Dave. It felt like all those long years hadn’t passed, and they were still hiding behind some tents in the jungles of Vietnam. The familiarity was overwhelming. Dave cupped Klaus’s face and deepened the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck is going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus broke away from Dave slightly. He took Dave’s hand and turned to the other man that was in the bar with him earlier. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diego!” Klaus said brightly, “This is Dave, the love of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man—Diego, apparently—looked back and forth between Dave and Klaus with a disbelieving expression on his face. “Klaus, he’s like eighty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seventy-nine, actually,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dave bit back from saying defensively. He was suddenly hyper aware of how wrinkled the skin of his hand was against Klaus’s smooth, youthful skin. How long had it been for Klaus since Dave was shot and Klaus had returned to his own time? Days? Weeks? Months? It couldn’t be longer than a year or two at most; he still looked exactly the same as he did the last time Dave saw him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Dave had, in his own opinion, aged relatively gracefully, he was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>old,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Klaus was still young (and very attractive).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diego, mi hermano, age ain’t nothing but a number,” Klaus said with airy condescension and an extravagant wave of his arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That startled a laugh out of Dave. “I’m not sure-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus cut him off with a kiss. Dave smiled into it, and he could feel Klaus’s smile against his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. You have fun with your... whatever.” Diego grimaced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span> have fun,” Klaus shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, Dave,” Diego said without sounding like he meant it. “I have to go kill those freaks who shot up the house and killed Eudora.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dave said, but Diego was already climbing into his car. He drove off without acknowledging Dave again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he joking?” Dave asked Klaus, alarmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Klaus kissed him again tenderly and Dave found he didn’t really care much about any potential future homicides. After a long moment Klaus broke away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know that gay marriage is legal now?” Klaus said brightly. “Like, all-over-the-country legal, with tax benefits and everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave chuckled. “I do know. I was at one of the celebrations afterwards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I was, too.” Klaus scrunched up his face. “I don’t remember much of it, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you asking me to marry you?” Dave wasn’t sure if this was moving too fast or far overdue. “If so, we’re going to need a marriage certificate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus nodded. “Well, then, let’s get on that. We might not have much time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave bit back a laugh. He knew better than to question the strange things Klaus said. He raised Klaus’s knuckles to his lips and Klaus blushed. Dave had forgotten how easily simple affection could make Klaus blush where dirty words and deeds couldn’t. He was looking forward to figuring out what he remembered about Klaus, and rediscovering what he didn’t. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://sacchariwrites.tumblr.com/">My tumblr.</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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